Do clothes really make the man (or woman?) Reflections on professional attire

By Stephen Milliken

Dress to impress, right? Whether in corporate culture or student affairs, the adage is about as ubiquitous as a collared shirt. While it is certainly prudent to understand the social implications and subtexts of what we wear, I suspect that there is a subtle psychological difference between dressing appropriately and dressing to impress. My fear is this: Within the workplace, that simple adage “dress to impress” is a means by which we perpetuate superficial criteria that judge the moral character and competency of ourselves and others.

Being well-dressed certainly makes a difference, but it is a difference mainly in other people’s perceptions of us and our perception of ourselves. For example, I feel more ready to take on the day, to do and to make, wearing jeans or slacks than I do wearing sweat pants.

And though that is an incredibly fascinating phenomenon, it means nothing in the realm of actual character building, competency acquisition, or moral development – I am not a morally better person nor am I a more competent employee by wearing slacks rather than sweat pants. Thoreau echoes the sentiment in his cultural critique Walden: “It is an interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if they were divested of their clothes. Could you, in such a case, tell surely of any company of civilized men, which belonged to the most respected class?”

Clothing in general has a direct tie to The Fall as one of its first implications and as a sign of separation between man and beast (more on that here). But one of the problems, given that we are fallen clothing-wearing beings, is the moral judgment that we make based on various clothing. We presume that we have depth of character, competence, social skills, magnanimity, and moral high ground due to the simple presence of a few well-placed pieces of clothing. The difficult work of character development – consistent action with integrity over time – is bypassed.

In short, that tie and dress pants can be deceptive. Not only for others in how we attempt to manipulate our outward appearance, but also for ourselves; we presume we are better, more important, and more entitled than we actually are – none of which lend themselves to depth of character and humility. Our choices to construct and project a certain persona become more akin to a caricature that distracts attention away from what we actually say and do – the realm of action where our character is built.

Oftentimes professional attire acts as a thin veil by which we project “having arrived” and having it all together, rather than doing the actual hard work of building a reputation of consistent and reliable acts. That collared shirt is often used as an accessible and easy way to veil our shortcomings, moral or otherwise.

To be fair, dressing up does tend to help establish a certain positive perspective and attitude towards ourselves and our work. But the point and purpose of dressing up in suits and formal clothing has been, historically, to commemorate a special occasion, not aim at ego-driven ladder-climbing. Don’t get me wrong: I enjoy dressing up as much as the next person, maybe more than some. I sometimes revel in looking good in a pin-striped three-piece and pocket-watch.

But those are special occasions of either remembrance, celebration, or both. Dressing up for special occasions typically functions as a sign of respect for a special event in someone’s life. “Dressing to impress” in contexts which have no particular communal reason for commemoration seems more akin to an ego trip. Few are consciously intending their dress to really be about competing with their peers and impressing their boss. But, as an avid reader of the work of James K.A. Smith, I know it is often less about how we intend our practices and more about how our practices form us. And the way we dress, being a daily ritual – or liturgy as Smith would say – is all the more potent. These unspoken and unconscious assumptions typically go something like this: Put on a suit and tie and I am now a “professional,” someone entitled to a certain respected perception and elevated social status.